


Old Gold & Spilt Ink

by Jenwryn



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-11
Updated: 2008-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 13:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenwryn/pseuds/Jenwryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'You don't think I was looking at you, do you, Granger?' (Three D/Hr drabbles, unrelated to each other.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quiver

**Author's Note:**

> Runner up in the "Best Drabble Series" category at [The New Library Awards](http://community.livejournal.com/tnl_awards/), 2008.

Draco watched her. Her cheeks were flushed with cold, her nose gone red. She kept rubbing at it with a gloved fist and the motion made his insides quiver as he wondered, despite himself, what that hand of hers would feel like...

'Put your eyes away, Malfoy!' she snapped.

Bitch.

'You don't think I was looking at you, do you, Granger?'

'No,' she snarled. 'You weren't. You were _leering._'

'I don't leer at Mudbloods.'

'Oh?' She looked outraged. 'Oh? So this'll leave you unmoved, right?'

And she crushed her mouth, furious, hungry, violent, against his.

Alas – betrayed by a quiver...****  
****


	2. Old Gold

Hermione smoothes her fingers down the silk of her kimono, luxury sliding beneath soft, well-kept hands. It’s a business dinner of her husband’s – the invitation said _formal and traditional _– and outside a flaming Japanese sun is melting into a thousand-rippled sea.

She shimmers when she moves. Her slender body sings of Old Gold, hums the sensuality of signatures on dotted lines. She’s the proof of his power.

But when she turns to him, it’s her eyes that request his attention, and _they _speak of nothing but bright intelligence.

“Are you _sure _about this?”

Draco smiles slowly. “Oh yes. Immeasurably so…”


	3. Spilt Ink

The ink spread across the desk unattended. It sank into the rich fibre of the parchment, it slid across the feathers of quills, and it dripped slowly over the edge of the mahogany onto the Persian rug below with a soft _plup, plup, plup._

Hermione reached out a pale white hand and stood the little bottle back up again. She was so close, she was intoxicating, and she just stood there and looked at him with that warm amused glow in her bright brown eyes.

Draco swallowed and stared at the pool of green across his desk.

“A … baby?”****  
****


End file.
